


Where It All Began

by Momodesuu



Series: November [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Drinking, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Mental Abuse, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-16 00:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14152506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momodesuu/pseuds/Momodesuu
Summary: Papa told me to be a good girl. That's all I have to do, right? If I keep dancing, if I keep following orders, I'll always have a place.Right?





	1. What Music Plays For Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out November!  
> This is my first ever fanfic with my own original character and I hope you enjoy her just as much as I did writing her.

_ You are perfect. You will always be perfect. Like a ballerina spinning inside a music box, you will forever be a possession. _

Blood. Something that shouldn't be familiar at such a young age, but it's all she knows that is real. Blood let's her know she's still alive, she's still human. She can spin and spin to the music, hear the voices commanding her, do as she's told, but the blood is hers. It's all she has really, her only link to life. And she clings to it, doesn't wash it out of her leggings. It's gross, she knows, but the red tint on the end of her stark white leggings is a comfort only she will understand. 

_ You will dance for Papa won't you? Dance until I tell you to stop? You love your Papa don't you? Do what Papa says and I won't make Mama cry again.  _

It's not that she cares for either. Her mother's tears aren't what make her dance, nor is it the fear her father strikes into her with his voice. Dancing is all she knows, it's everything that she is. Papa turns on the record player and her feet do the rest, her body falling in tune with the music. The smoke from his cigar fills the room, curtains around her, almost like a sheet. It's comforting. As long as she dances, he won't touch her, she's learned that now. The music is comforting, flows into her body and takes her away from her home. The smoke hides her in a fog and she's no longer in the living room. The music sets her free. 

_ Why were you born!? It's because of you that he doesn't love me! It's because of you that we have no money! How much was that dress!? How much are the ballet lessons!? _

It hurts, the fresh sting her mother strikes across her cheek. But she doesn't move. Doesn't dare say a word or lift a finger. Dolls don't act on their feelings, don't disobey or talk back. So she won't either. Because she is the perfect doll. If only mother could see that. 

_ Papa and Mama are gone now.  _ Blood, it's thick. It pools on the floor in front of her. Something in her aches to touch it.  _ I'll be your uncle okay? You just have to be a good little girl and come with your uncle, alright? _ Dolls do not disobey. 

_ She's young that's why she's perfect. We can use her, train her, she could be our Trump card. _

_ Our perfect weapon. She looks like a doll, so perfect, no one would suspect she's a killer. This is an opportunity boss, we need to take it.  _

“You're quite young,” the man is old, too old, she thinks as she stands before him, “does that mean you are ripe for the taking?” She smiles and tilts her head to the side as she climbs on to his lap. 

The bed doesn't even creak under her weight. She's too small, doesn't remember her last meal. This is her first job, she needs to do well. Doing well means food, a bed to sleep in, doing well is everything. 

“My cherry is all yours General.” Her voice is like liquid candy. A sweetness to it that causes the man under her to shiver. “Go ahead General, I'm all yours.” 

She lets his hands wander across her arms. The dress she's wearing is practically falling off of her. The red lace held up by two thin straps. It's riding up her thighs, pools into his lap as she straddles him. Maybe in another life she would enjoy this, being ravished by someone as high ranking as this one general. But in this life he's a target, a mission objective and she intends on winning.

He doesn't see the thin wire wrapped around her palm. It's better this way, she thinks. Let him grab and kiss at her, get his fill for just a few more moments. The wire on her palm is heavy, this will be her first kill, but she's ready. 

She uncoils it and let's the end fall into her other hand behind his back. He doesn't see it coming, not when she brings the wire around his neck from behind and twists it around his neck. The skin starts the cut under the sharpness and his screams fill the room. But they don't last long. The panic sets into his eyes and he reaches for his neck. Foolish she thinks, he should have went for her. 

His fingernails grab violently at his own neck, ripping skin as he tries to grab at the wire. But it's hopeless, with each twist of her hands, the wire digs deeper, cuts off more air. She's smiling, something sick and twisted coiling in her gut as his blood pools into the bed. The sheets are red and she wishes they were white.

_ So messy.  _ A laugh, a chuckle _. Well done my girl, very well done. You did everything I asked of you, Uncle is proud. Very proud. As promised, a room is waiting for you back at home, along with food. But dear, stop by my room after you've showered. We have some business to take care of.  _

Just a doll, forever spinning.


	2. The Beginning of The End

Music filters in from the space between the door and the floor. It’s loud, causes a slight rumble in the floorboards. The walls boom, shake slightly as she presses her hand against the wall. Usually cages are dark, silent, kept away, but her cage is anything but. It’s well lit, a light hanging from the ceiling. She’s allowed to leave the room to seek food, to bathe, to interact with the others, but she doesn’t. She stays here, covered in expensive silks. Gifts. 

“Alice!” She grimaces, curses under her breath as she rises from the bed. Her name against his tongue sounds like silk, but feels like acid pouring into her ears. 

The boards shift under her feet, the wood feeling cold. She wants to return to her bed, return to the pillows and her silks. At least in here, she is safe. She is alone. Out there, eyes watch her every move. The mirror haunts her as she goes by, not recognizing the person that stares back at her. Her brown hair is dyed black, green eyes hidden by blue contacts. Maybe it’s to hide her identity, so lost family members won’t come looking. But in reality, no one will come looking. 

The image that looks back at her is that of a stranger. Her body far too frail, skinny, breakable. It sickens her, causes a frown to fall upon her lips. But this is her life, the life of a doll. The silk that hangs from her shoulders is red,  _ his _ favorite color. Most of her things are red, gifts from her  _ uncle. _

The door knob turns under her gentle touch; the metal inside creaks softly. The hallway is mostly empty, save for a few girls who linger toward the end. Their purpose is much like her own, but they aren’t called on quite as often. Alice gets the high value customers, brings in the most money. Her picture is the one they advertise on the front of the shop. 

“Alice, my dear.” Grey calls to her as she emerges from the staircase. His features are gentle, save for the deep scar that runs down his left eye. The pupil is white, but it still stares at her, still looks at her. The other is blue, his hair black; he’d chosen to change her and not himself. 

“Uncle,” she says with a smile, tilting her head, “who have you brought today?” She watches as the man across the room swallows, watches his adam's apple bob. 

He’s younger than her other customers, which is a pleasant surprise. She’s expensive, only sleazy old men can afford her. Everyone is made to pay up front, so if he’s made it to the meeting room, then he has the money. His hair is blonde, slicked back, green eyes scanning her every move. He’s well dressed, black pressed suit and tie. She almost feels bad for him.  _ Almost. _

“This is Lieutenant Bellamy,” she smiles at him, “he has requested you for the night. Give him the VIP experience.”  She wonders why Grey calls it the VIP experience. All of her customers get the same treatment, it’s up to her on how to dish it out. Grey won’t have that control over her, she will decide how this man dies. 

“This way Mr. Bellamy,” she says, extending her hand out to him and he takes it. She wishes for only a moment that he’d turn away, but he won’t. No one ever has. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Bellamy admits as they enter the VIP suit. The hand that’s in hers is sweaty, his other rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Bought an escort?” She says with a smile, walking over to the mini bar. Escort is such a vague description of her job title, but she likes how it sounds rather than prostitute.  

“Well, yes.” He admits, taking a seat on the bed. “Do you have Scotch?” She hums and nods her head, pulling the bottle from a shelf. She reaches for the icebox, “Ah, no ice please.” 

She pours his glass, looking at him through the mirror. He looks nervous as he loosens the tie around his neck. “What brings you here? Business or pleasure?” 

He takes the glass from her as she approaches, “A little of both I guess.” He takes a long drink from his glass, maybe hoping it will calm his nerves. 

Alice takes a seat next to him, smoothing her hands across her dress as she sits, “Any family?” She’s the only one who asks this question, the only one who  _ cares _ . 

“I know you're trying to make me feel comfortable, but I'd rather get the night started.” There's a flush on his face as he tips back his glass. Alice watches as the amber liquid pours down his throat, her eyes focusing on the hand that's holding the glass. 

There's a silver ring on his ring finger.  _ Married.  _ She had wanted to like this man, wanted to think he was different because he was young. But yet again, the world let's her down. This man's fate is sealed, she only hopes his wife won't miss him. 

Once his glass is empty, she takes it from his fingers and places it on the table. She's suddenly tired, worn out, not feeling like playing. This will be over quick. 

“Do you mind if I lead?” She smiles at him where she stands in front of him. 

She watches the way his adam's apple bobs, the way his throat constricts as he swallows. He nods and that's all she needs before she's climbing into his lap, straddling him. He feels rather small under her, but all men usually do.Her fingers trace over his chest and work around his neck, loosening his tie. She needs full access to his neck, needs to see the vein. 

“You’re rather pretty.” He says, hands sitting at her waist, daring to go lower. 

She moves her lips across his cheek while her fingers work open the top of his suit. His tie is thrown to the floor as her lips move across his jaw. She can feel the shiver that runs through his body, can feel his length hardening against her leg. He might have hopes, dreams, but Fate has placed him here. And it is here that he will die. 

She kisses a trail to his neck, suckles on the skin and then sinks her teeth in. Her canines extend into the skin and poison spills into his veins. He starts to struggle, grabs at her body and tries to get her off, but it's over before it began. 

Alice pulls away and looks down at him. His eyes stare at her, he's scared, frightened. But all she does is lick the blood away from her mouth and remove herself from him. 

“He's all yours.” She says as she exits the room, giving one last look back at his limp body before the guard shuts the door. 

As she makes her way toward her room, she notices Grey staring at her. “That was rather quick Alice.”

She shrugs, “He paid in advance, what does it matter?” 

Grey booms, his laughter filling the room. “Well since you didn't have any fun, why not join me in my room?” 

Alice eyes him, her cold gaze glaring into him. “Do I have a choice dear uncle?” 

“You know the answer to that one my dear.” He chuckles, his smirk a grin that she wishes she could wipe off his face. 

-

She watches from her window as the cars below pass by. This is the only insight she has to the outside world, what she sees outside her window. She could watch TV, does from time to time, but what she’s looking at right now, is happening right in front of her. She imagines the lives of the people she sees, wonders about their families, their homes. 

Her life would always be like this, she assumed anyway. She could dream about running away, dream about killing Grey, but she’d never do it. The security this place gives her, the false sense of home, she can’t get that anywhere else. She has slight control of her life, of the way she does her business, and in a sense, was more free now then when she was a child. 

She was dancing her own dance to someone else's tune. 

Light pours into her otherwise dark room, illuminates her face as she looks back at the intruder. “Alice,” Grey says in her doorway.

“Yes?” He walks into the room, stretches out a hand toward her face and she pulls away. “What do you want?” 

Grey chuckles, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Someone has purchased you for the night and he’s paid quite a hefty price for you.”

Alice stands up, smoothing down her dress. “You felt the need to come to my room to tell me this why?” 

“He’s purchased you to be his date for the evening. Outside.” Alice stares at Grey, her arms falling at her sides as she does so.  _ Outside? Out there? Away from here? _ “I came to warn you, my dear Alice.” This time when Grey places his fingers around her chin, she doesn’t pull away. “I will have men watching you all night, if you even try to run,” he leans in close, his breath hot against her ear, “I will find you.” 

Alice laughs and tilts her head to the side. “I would never think of leaving you my  _ dear uncle _ .” Her fingers encircle his own as she pulls them away from her face. “Now leave me so I can get dressed.”

“That’s not necessary, he’s already prepared an outfit for you.” Alice cocks an eyebrow and stares at Grey. What kind of client would go to such lengths? 

“Am I giving him the  _ VIP _ treatment?” She asks, walking toward her coat rack to grab her white fur coat. 

Grey chuckles, “Not this time my dear.”

Alice looks back at him, a slight slouch in her shoulders. She doesn’t remember the last time she had a  _ normal _ client. A client that she could actually  _ enjoy. _ She stares at Grey, looks at his features, the way he stands. He’s calm, except the bit of tension in his shoulders. “This is awfully nice of you.” Alice finally says into the silence. 

“Just thought I’d let my doll know I can be kind to her.” He walks toward the door and motions for her to follow. She wonders if this is a test, a dream, a false reality she’s woken up to. She’s never been allowed to be a  _ true _ escort. Never been allowed passed the front doors. 

But she follows Grey anyway, carefully treading behind him down the stairs. She thinks of the man who has bought her for the night. Probably a rich old man, looking for something nice to drape around his arm. Someone who has paid a lot to be able to take her out, and those types of men were always the worst. But Alice wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to step outside, even for just a night. 

What she’s met with instead of the usual as she walks into the main room makes her stall. Standing near the entrance, in an expensive black tux, stands a young man. She could say  _ young _ because he was definitely younger than her usual clients. But this man was probably in his late twenties, early thirties. He was all dark skin and rough eyes, staring at her with a hunger she’s never felt before. 

“Gabriel Reyes,” he says, offering his hand out to her. She feels herself swallow as she extends her hand. 

“Alice Rose.” She says, watching as he takes her hand and kisses it. She suddenly feels a rush of heat run up her neck and to her ears. 

“A pleasure.” He says with a smile, offering his arm to her. This was it, this was her way out of here, at least for one night. She doesn't hesitate as she loops her arm around his, leaning against his side as he leads her outside. 

The fresh night air envelopes her as they step outside the doors. A small giggle leaving her lips as she looks around, a smile overtaking her. “Something funny?” Gabriel asks and she shakes her head. 

“No.” She looks up at the night sky. At the fresh coat of stars that paint the night. “The sky’s just really beautiful tonight.” 

Gabriel looks down at her, a look in his eyes she can't see. “That it is.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Denny and Zambie for Beta reading for me.


	3. Another Set of Handcuffs

They don’t go straight to the party, but to a hotel. A hotel that looks rather expensive. 

The driver comes around to open the door for her, taking her hand as she steps out. She feels expensive, feels like egyptian silk and everyone’s treating her like it. Alice can’t help the smile that’s spreading on her face, the butterflies in her stomach. She gets to spend a night  _ out _ and with such a good looking man at that. 

“This way.” Gabriel says to her, holding his arm to her. She takes it, huddles in close to him as they enter the hotel. 

He leads her toward the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. Her stomach does flips. This man has  _ money. _ Out of all of the places he could have rented a girl for night, he’d chosen  _ Rose Alice _ to do it. She’d always thought the name was tacky, playing off of her own. But it brought in money, brought in business and it was her picture that was advertised on the front. 

“So tell me,” Gabriel says, glancing down at her as they wait for their floor, “how old are you really?”

Alice laughs and looks toward the door. “You should know better then to ask a lady’s age.” She knows they advertise her as eighteen but she’s actually twenty two. 

Gabriel doesn’t press her any further as the elevator dings and opens up to their floor. He leads her down the hall and toward a room near the end. The corridor is lined with windows and she takes a moment to look down at the street lights. “Like scenery do you?” 

Alice nods, “Very much so yes.” 

Gabriel leads her inside and lets the door close behind them. The room is huge and she can’t help but wander toward the windows. The city looks gorgeous at night, the various lights twinkling from this high up. 

She notices Gabriel’s reflection behind her all too late. His hand is already around her before she has time to react and the strong smell of chloroform fills her nose. She can taste it on her tongue as she tries to speak, tries to cough. He has one hand against her mouth and his other arm wrapped around her. He’s impossibly strong, his muscles flexing in the reflection she sees. 

_ This is it. This is where I die.  _

-

Gabriel takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting the stick sit on his lips as he finishes hooking Alice’s feet to the chair. He takes a look at his handy work, taking a moment to lean back. He didn’t want to treat her like this, but he really had no other choice. He’d heard the rumors, seen her file and knew if she’d been able to get her mouth on him, he’d be dead meat. 

He doubts her boss knew who he was, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. This woman has a long streak of deaths, a nice pile sitting under her and he didn’t want to be added to it. Gabriel takes a long look at her, sees the potential in her. He grabs her file from where it lies on the table and skims through it again. 

_ Name: Sophia Gretzky _

_ Alias: Alice Rose _

_ Age: Unknown _

_ Parents: Martha and Joseph Gretzky (Deceased)  _

_ Current Guardian: Grey Richards _

_ Target is a young female, age unknown. In the young stages of her life, she was a very talented stage performer, but after the death of her parents, all of these records are unattainable. Her father, Joseph, worked with a section of the mob, although his cause of death is unknown, speculation is the mob got rid of him. Grey Richards, one of the ring leaders, runs an illegal prostitution shop in New York. How Sophia came to be in his possession is unknown, but he has shaped her to do his bidding. We’ve reports of over fifty men killed by a poison that is injected into a vein in the neck, another twenty or so killed by other means, strangulation common among all of them. It is suspected that Grey is using Sophia to kill high ranking men in opposing factions of the mafia.  _

_ Your job is to obtain her, at any cost, and find out any information she has. Once done, she is to be transported to the Overwatch HQ in Switzerland for a full examination of her mental health. If she resists, you are permitted to use deadly force. What is important is the information.  _

Gabriel sighs, takes another drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the nearest ashtray.  _ This job doesn’t pay enough,  _ he thinks, running a hand over his face. He glances over at Alice. She’s positioned in the middle of the room, away from the windows. He knows they were being followed, part of the reason why he picked a room so high up. 

“Boss,” comes a call into his communicator, “the decoys have been deployed and are making their way to the party.” 

He nods, even though no one can see him, “Good work.” McCree sighs on the other end; Gabriel probably wasn’t supposed to hear it. “Spit it out agent.”

McCree makes a hurt sound, “Callin’ me agent? Harsh Gabe.” There’s a moment of silence. “I just think, you know, she’s mighty young and everything-”

“McCree.” 

“You gave me a pardon sir, just think maybe the little lady deserves more than life’s been givin’ her.” 

Gabriel’s silent for a moment, “That all depends on her.” He hears the snort McCree gives and then the line goes dead. He looks back over to Alice. 

_ Time to get to work. _

-

The taste of chloroform is still heavy on her tongue when she wakes up. She raises her head slowly, aware that she’s in a dire situation. The second thing she notices is that she’s tied tightly to a metal chair. Her ankles are fastened to the legs with a chain running underneath and connecting to where her wrists are fastened tight against the back of the chair. She’s never seen technology like this. They aren’t normal cuffs, being made of metal and flashing blue in certain areas. She swallows. 

“Alice.” The voice in front of her calls out to her and she raises her head to meet it. Gabriel, if that’s even his name, is sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He looks relaxed, like he’s not about to torture someone for information. 

She doesn’t say anything, just tilts her head back and looks at him through lidded eyes.  _ Is he from an opposing gang? Or is this Grey’s way of showing me who I belong to?  _ She looks away from Gabriel, eyes looking around the room. They’re the only ones here, as far as she can tell. But the room is more than likely bugged, a camera hidden somewhere. “ _ Sophia. _ ”  

Her head snaps back to Gabriel, a smirk on his lips. “I see that got your attention.” 

“How do you know that name?” She hisses, arms struggling against her restraints. 

Gabriel smiles, fingers lacing together as he stares at her. “I know a lot about you.” His eyes flick to the table next to her that she hadn’t looked over yet. She peels her eyes away from him and focuses on the table. There’s a yellow envelope sitting on it, more than likely consisting of every bit of information on her. 

There’s also  _ tools. _ Medieval looking objects. Some are sharp, look like they could carve into her skin. There’s also a spool of wire and she actually laughs at seeing it. Would he really kill her using her own trick? “I don’t want to use those Sophia.” 

She draws her attention back at him. Her tongue feels heavy, not sure what to say or do. Grey had never trained her for these situations. “What do you want,  _ Gabriel _ ?” 

He sits up straight then, moving from the bed and over to her. He looks taller now that she’s seated and she swallows down the lump in her throat. She won’t admit she’s scared, that her heart is racing and her blood is boiling. She could  _ die. _ Is more than likely  _ going to _ . 

“I just want information. I’m sure we could come to a trade, some sort of agreement.” He leans over her, arm resting on the back of the chair. She could bite into his arm, end this now. Her tongue runs over her upper teeth, a sense of panic washing over her. “I removed those while you were out. Don’t want any unnecessary accidents.” 

Alice tilts her head back and looks at him. “What sort of agreement are you trying to make?” 

Gabriel chuckles something low, like he’s having fun. “You give me information and I guarantee your safety.” 

“Information on what?” Her tongue runs over the holes in her mouth, a sense of loss rushing through her.  _ He took out my fucking teeth. _

“I need information on Grey Richards and on Rose Alice.” Alice’s heart sinks into her stomach.  _ They want information on Grey? On the organization?  _

Alice takes in a deep breath. “Are you from an opposing gang?” 

Gabriel shakes his head. “I work for an organization called Overwatch.” Alice scans her memory, tries to find if she has any information on them. 

Her mind wanders back to her room, back to her bed. Her eyes fixed on the TV, watching how Overwatch had ended the Omnic Crisis. She remembers hearing how they’re a symbol for peace, or at least supposed to be. Rising tension between the people and Overwatch is high. 

“What do you want with Grey?” Her mind is racing. If he’s telling the truth, he could give her an out. Be her escape from this life.  _ But _ there is always a catch. 

“To be quite honest with you Alice, I could kill you right now and end all of my problems. You’re the reason people are coming out dead at Rose Alice, we’re not stupid. We know who is killing people for Grey and it’s  _ you _ .” She swallows as Gabriel stares at her. His eyes are heavy, staring into her,  _ through her. _ “But I’m willing to look past that to take down the head.” 

There’s a long moment of silence as Gabriel stares at her. His glare is intense so she looks down at the floor. Everything she says here could have a consequence. He could be lying, could not really give her an out. He could take the information from her and then kill her. That’s what Alice would do, is what she  _ does _ . 

She could sell out Grey. She knows an organization like Overwatch could easily take out Rose Alice and everyone inside. But there’s a thought in the back of her mind,  _ do I want to do that? _ She swallows, mind racing. Grey has done nothing but force her into an image. Forced her to kill, to do whatever he asked. 

_ But I like to kill.  _ She thinks of all of the blood that’s been on her hands. Recalls the feeling of necks snapping around her wire. 

“You can’t expect me to believe that if I hand over this information, you’ll let me go scott free.” Alice finally says, returning her attention back to Gabriel. 

He shifts on his feet, crosses his arms over his chest. “I didn’t say I’d let you go. I said I’d guarantee safety, which I will.” He crouches down as he’s eye level with her. “You can’t possibly think I could just let you go do you?” 

Alice shakes her head, “No I don’t. So what’s the catch Gabriel? Prison? Life sentence?” 

He laughs, “You have a unique…  _ talent _ that could be of use to me.”  _ Someone else to control me. _ “You give me what I want and I’ll give you a new home. And I guarantee that it will be much better then what Grey is giving you.” There’s a long silence between them before he speaks again. “And you won’t have to whore yourself out.” 

Alice swallows, her tongue heavy in her mouth, a lump in her throat. “Grey isn’t the head. Killing him won’t take down Rose Alice, they’ll just put someone new in his place. You need to take down Victor Reinz.” Gabriel raises a brow, so she continues. “I’ve sat in on meetings between him and the others. Victor is the head and Grey is his right hand. There’s others too, I can provide those names as well.” 

“And locations?” Gabriel questions and Alice nods. He stands up and heads toward the table, rummaging through the items on it. He picks up a small black device and pushes the button on it. 

Alice is surprised when the cuffs around her ankles and wrists are unlocked. They fall to the floor with a  _ clink _ that actually manages to startle her. “This all starts here,” Gabriel says next to her and he’s holding out his hand, “the choice is yours.” 

She stares at it for a long moment, something heavy sitting in her chest. By doing this she’d free herself from Grey, from being a doll, an object of desire. But taking that hand meant she’d just be kept under a new puppets strings. She looked at him, that same heavy look in his eyes. 

Sophia took Gabriel’s hand, watching as Alice was left on the chair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Denny and Zambie.


	4. The Poison You Created

McCree scratches the back of his head and takes another drag from his cigar. The smoke flows around him, fills his senses. A bad habit, he knows. Everytime he walked into the med bay he’d gotten an earful from Angela. But he can’t bring himself to quit. It’s probably the security it gives him, like a warm blanket. 

He briefly thinks of New Mexico, thinks of home. He can smell the thick smoke from his Pa’s cigar in the air, taste it on his tongue. He can hear his Ma calling out to him,  _ Jesse. _ He shivers and brushes the thought away, takes another drag, fills his lungs with the smoke. 

“McCree.” Gabriel calls out to him and McCree looks over at him. “We can’t mess this up.” His gaze flickers over to Ali- _ Sophia _ . She’s a small thing,  _ fragile _ Jesse thinks, but he won’t say it outloud. Won’t say how he thinks this kind of work isn’t suited for her. 

“I ain’t ever messed up.” He says, taking one last pull from the cigar before he puts it out. 

“You will return me as normal and leave.” Sophia says and Jesse thinks her voice sounds like silk. “Give me exactly fifteen minutes and I will have everything on my end done and you’ll be able to charge in.” 

Gabriel looks at her, eyes heavy, Jesse see’s the doubt. It had been there when he’d recruited Jesse, his brown eyes thick with worry. Jesse knows Gabriel has lost too many good people, doesn’t want to lose more to a mistake he’s made. “You’ll be fitted with a small one way communicator so that we can hear when it’s done. We’re putting a lot of trust in you. Know that I will not hesitate to kill you.” 

Jesse watches Sophia nod. She knows he means it. Jesse  _ knows _ he means it. 

He watches Gabriel move toward the door, “We leave in 30, be ready.” The door shuts quietly behind him and Jesse’s left alone with Sophia. He’s not worried, not really anyway. It would be stupid of her to try something and Jesse doesn’t think she would. He looks over at her, see’s the defeated look on her face. 

“Blackwatch ain’t that bad,” he says into the silence, pulling out another cigar. His lungs hurt, chest is tight, he needs some comfort. Sophia’s looking at him now, words on her lips as she parts them. He eyes her, sees the question she wants to ask. “Want one?” He’s never met a women who enjoyed cigars, but Sophia nods. 

He walks over to her and hands her one, watches the way it sits on her lips. It looks out of place against her pale skin. Jesse lights it for her, likes the way the lighter flame flickers in her eyes. He sees the outline in them, frowns against his cigars. “Contacts?” 

Sophia takes a long drag from the cigar and huffs it out, a cough leaving her. A very  _ violent _ cough that has Jesse scrambling a hand toward her back. “Sorry,” she says and laughs, “I’ve never smoked, but wanted something to take the edge off.” He watches her take another drag, this one much easier. She blows the smoke toward the ceiling and Jesse gets lost in the smell. “I can see why you like these.” 

His brand is special. He makes them himself, but he won’t tell her that. “Doc always says they’re gonna’ kill me,” he shrugs, “but I just can’t bring myself to quit.” Jesse thinks he could if he wanted to. 

“To answer your earlier question, these aren’t contacts.” She brings a hand to her eye and Jesse sucks in a breath and she pokes her eyeball. Jesse doesn’t think himself squeamish, he’s seen plenty of blood and dead bodies, but something about that just isn’t right and he shivers. 

She pulls the contact away and looks back up at him. Jesse’s cigar almost falls from his mouth as his lips part. One eye is blue, the other a bright green. “Now you see my confusion in how you knew who I was.” She puts the contact back in and adjusts it, the green perfectly hidden behind the blue. 

“That just ain’t right,” he blurts, leaning back on his heels, hands going to his pockets, “forcin’ someone to change like that.” 

Sophia doesn’t say anything, just returns to the cigar. Jesse doesn’t say anymore, just leans against the wall and stares are the ceiling. The smoke fills the room, fills his lungs. It reminds him of home. 

_ Jesse. _

-

“Here,” Gabriel says before she exits the car, “you can have these back.” Sophia stares at his hand, where her canines lay. She grimaces and snatches them from his hand. He should have given these back last night, but no, he’d made her go all night without them. 

She’s forced to put them back in right here in car and takes a deep breath as she does. The first canine hooks into the port in her mouth, sending a shockwave of pain as the nerves reconnect. She shudders, digs her nails into the leather seat. Gabriel couldn’t have known that her entire mouth has been rewired with nanites, that her blood courses with them. The second canine goes much like the first and she squeezes her eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling. 

“You know your job?” Gabriel asks as they approach Rose Alice. 

“Yes.” She won’t admit that she’s excited, that her blood is boiling. Adrenaline courses through her. 

The driver opens the car door and Sophia instantly sees Grey standing at the door. He has a smile on his face, a hand extended to welcome her home. “Alice.” He says, something sweet on his tongue. 

“Uncle,” she says, taking his hand as he helps her from the car. She turns and gives a curt bow toward Gabriel where he stays seated in the car. “Thank you for your patronage with Rose Alice, I hope to see you again.” She smiles as the car drives away. 

“Did you have fun my dear?” Grey asks, his hand moving around her hip. She doesn’t push him away, instead she leans against him. 

She looks up at him, “Of course.” 

He leads her inside and to his room, just like she thought he would. He’d gone all night without her there and he was hungry. She can see it in his smile, in the way his eyes feast upon her. Sophia doesn’t push him away, rather she accepts all of his touches as they climb the stairs. “You see now, that I can be nice Alice.” 

“Of course dear uncle.” Her fingers skirt across his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he closes the door. “I see you missed me.” She jokes, a giggle on her lips. 

Grey doesn’t say anything, just guides her toward the bed and into his lap. His lips brush against her neck and he inhales. He always liked the way she smelled. But of course he would, she only wore the perfume he bought for her. Her entire being was made by him. 

He lets her ravish her for a moment as her mind runs wild. She could reach for the wire that's tucked into her panties. She licks her lips as she thinks about the blood around her fingers, thinks about the sound of his neck snapping. She wants to,  _ really _ wants to. But she smiles, something dark, as she thinks of the way it  _ should _ end. 

Her lips tease against his neck and he tilts his head to the side for her. “I really enjoyed last night,” she says, tongue licking his skin, “it showed me so much.” 

She can feel him jolt as her teeth sink in. His hand goes to her hair, tugs violently at it, but she doesn’t let go. Her grip on his neck is tight, all of her teeth digging in. The flesh beneath her teeth gives, letting all of them sink in as the venom seeps into his bloodstream. The hand in her hair slowly falls to the side and a choked sound comes from him. 

Sophia leans back, body still sitting in his lap. She licks her lips, tastes the blood on them. It’s thick, heavy, and she can feel it run down her chin. “I’ve thought of this day for awhile,” she says, hands going to cup his cheeks so he’s forced to look at her, “thought of how to do it. I wanted to use the wire, wanted to watch it cut into your skin.” 

She moves forward, kisses his lips softly. “But this is much better, isn’t it? You created me dear Uncle. It’s only fitting that this be your end. Killed by your own creation.” She hears the moment the door is blown open, hears the gunfire. “It’s really fitting, that I be the end of Rose Alice. Letting me out that door was the worst mistake you’ve ever made.”

His eyes are rolled back into his head by now, the pupils blown. His skin has already gone pale, his breath a raspy stutter. By now his lungs are filling with blood, his organs about to burst. “Thank you Uncle, for giving me a night out. It really was wonderful.” 

She removes herself from him and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. She takes one last look as him before she leaves. He’s slumped back in the bed, blood seeping out of his eyes. She lets a little laugh leave her before closing the door. 

_ Goodbye, dear Uncle. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this little sneak peak, prologue thing for November.  
> Liked it? Let me know!  
> I currently already have Part 2 done and am working on Part 3. I will start a steady upload date of two chapters every Saturday starting March 31st.  
> Stay tuned for part 2!
> 
> A special thanks to Denny and Zambie for beta reading and being patient with me!


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